


Garterbelt

by MagicVickri



Series: Lace [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Lingerie, M/M, also if yall know me by now a lotta dumb shit happens in between, sorry jeff kaplan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicVickri/pseuds/MagicVickri
Summary: Junkrat gets creative.





	Garterbelt

**Author's Note:**

> [junkrat voice] roadie do ya think I'm pretty?
> 
> HHGGFGH I don't really have much to say about this, I'm just super gay and have a lingerie kink and also wanted to write another fic where these two act like idiots

Their latest haul was sprawled out all over the motel room bed. The two Junkers were in the mood to grab a variety of things instead of just emptying out cash registers and jewelry display cases. There were brand name clothes, expensive dinnerware, jewels, cosmetics, small fake potted plants, candy, and many other unique things spread out on the blanket. Junkrat ran his mismatched arms throughout the clutter, mapping out their spoils and pushing some things onto the floor. He would occasionally pick up an item that interested him, only for a moment, before tossing it over his shoulder. At some point he had picked up a ruby, thinking it was a piece of candy, and bit down on it. Well, least it was real.

 

Junkrat began sifting through the clothes, hoping that he at least grabbed some things in Roadhog’s size. They’ve already ripped and burned through their past disguises, and were in desperate need of new outfits. He picked up a gigantic leather vest, checking the label for the size. 5XL it read. Junkrat chuckled to himself. It would be a perfect fit for ol’ Hoggie. Junkrat pondered making some patches for Roadhog to sew onto it, maybe a bomb or two. Or a pig and a rat to symbolize their partnership.

 

The leather vest was laid back down on the bed and Junkrat returned to his scavenging. He found a few more clothes that could fit Hog, and set them aside on top of the pillows. Now it was time to coordinate outfits for himself. He pulled up multiple jackets and shirts, and was a little annoyed that he didn’t grab enough pants. They were gonna have to go back out later and steal more things. Junkrat tossed all those aside, but then spotted something unusual in the corner of his eye. Something he didn’t remember taking.

 

Underneath the large pile of clothes was a small blue-black piece of fabric with four straps attached to the bottom of it. Junkrat knew they made these kinds of things way more often now in men’s sizes, and wondered if it was lodged within that case of boxers he raided in one of those designer stores they broke into. Junkrat picked it up and inspected it, and an idea popped into his head. 

 

Roadhog was taking too long robbing the nearby grocery store, so he had time to kill.

 

—-

 

The bathroom had a pretty big mirror, one that was big enough to catch the sight of his hips. Junkrat put the garterbelt on top of the counter by the sink, and began pulling off his tattered green shorts. Immediately he was greeted by the sight of his bruised thighs. While not uncommon when they fucked, Roadhog definitely left much bigger ones than usual last night (not that Jamison was gonna complain). Once Junkrat’s shorts were completely off, he picked the garterbelt back up from the counter and held them up to the bruises. The bruises were so dark they almost matched the dark blue color of the fabric, and the blond snorted in amusement. Maybe Hog would get a kick out of that. 

 

Junkrat slipped the garterbelt on, careful to not get it caught onto his peg leg as he slid it up his legs. The thin stretch of fabric sat over his pointy hips, and he straightened out the straps so they sat neatly on his upper thighs. He glanced up in the mirror to see how it looked on him. The first thing he told himself was that he was definitely gonna need to lose his white boxers, they looked really out of place. But he really didn’t have any other kinds of underwear, and he couldn’t recall if he had stolen any along with the garterbelt. The second thought was that the garterbelt looked weird without stockings, but he couldn’t exactly wear just any kind of pair. Since, well, peg leg and all. Maybe he could tie something fancy around his stump.

 

The blond was starting to feel really stupid. Why did he even care whether or not he looked good in some tiny useless strap wrapped around his hips? He remembered how all those men in lingerie looked in the magazines he used to steal as a teenager. They seemed so natural, so comfortable. He remembered the feeling of wanting to feel that confident in whatever clothes he wore, and he could definitely use that confidence right now.

 

Here we go again. Why is he getting so obsessed about this? Who cares. Roadhog doesn’t give a shit and neither should he. Roadhog still likes him just how he is, what with his half burnt-off hair and his soot decorated skin and bad manners. Roadhog, that massive muscular sexy beast of a man who showed off his huge tattooed gut like a trophy. Roadhog, who went along with Junkrat’s wacky schemes and loved to kiss that one freckle on the side of his nose and calmed him down by shoving his face into his hairy, sweaty chest and-

 

Junkrat banged his head against the mirror and groaned. Now he was just distracting himself. All he wanted was to just see how that stupid garterbelt looked on him, not stand in the bathroom and go off on an internal tangent about how gay and in love he was. He’s been in the bathroom long enough, Roadie was sure to be back at some point so Junkrat needed to quit dicking around and put his shorts back on. But as he looked down at himself, he started thinking again about how bothered he was by the way the garterbelt looked against his white boxers. Just one more thing to play around with, and he’d take the stupid thing off. Maybe it would look a lot better on him if he was ass naked.

 

He slid down his boxer shorts, taking a few seconds to slide it over his leg prosthetic before being able to pull it off his body. Junkrat leaned back up and looked into the mirror again, and felt a little better with how it looked. Guess there was a reason why these things were meant for se-

 

The bathroom door swung open, and Junkrat turned his head in a rapid fashion to find Roadhog staring at him from the doorway. The bodyguard had one hand on the doorknob, and a bag of food in the other. The two men stared at each other for what felt like five minutes, then Junkrat spoke.

 

“Can a fella get some goddamn privacy ‘round here?!”

 

Roadhog did not respond, staring at his ward a little longer then began to close the door. Junkrat slapped a flesh had to his face and sighed. “Oi, I don’t actually give a shit, ya seen my ass plenty a times already ya don’t have ta fuckin’ close the damn door.”

 

Roadhog opened the bathroom door again, then lifted his bag holding hand to gesture at Junkrat’s body. “What’s up with that?” he asked in his signature gruff voice. 

 

Junkrat made a face and cocked his hips. “What, ya gotta problem with what I wear all of a sudden?”

 

Roadhog titled his head. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

 

“W-well I ain’t! Just…found it in the pile and got curious s’all,” Junkrat said. “If it’s makin’ you uncomfortable or somethin’ you can go fuck off into the room or whatever.”

 

Roadhog looked on quietly for a moment, then stepped away from the doorway. He didn’t close the door behind him, and Junkrat could hear him moving around the room. He heard things falling onto the floor, and he walked out of the bathroom to see what his bodyguard was doing. He poked his head out first, and saw that Roadhog had pushed everything off the large motel bed and was sitting at the edge of the mattress with his massive arms crossed. Roadhog said nothing when Junkrat appeared, and stayed silent as the other man approached him.

 

“What?” Junkrat asked.

 

No response.

 

Junkrat huffed. “I already toldja this ain’t nothin’!”

 

Still no response.

 

Junkrat threw his arms in the air. “Least you can do is tell me if me ass looks good in it or somethin’!”

 

He quickly realized what he had just blurted out, and covered his mouth with both hands. His eyes darted around the room for a split second, then fell back on Roadhog who was still unresponsive. At least, until the big lug started to laugh. Junkrat’s hands fell from his face and onto his hips in balled up fists, glaring at Hog while the larger man continue laughing.

 

Roadhog’s laughter dulled into a short coughing fit, and he pound himself in the chest with his fist. When he regained his composure, he looked back up at Junkrat and saw that he was scowling at him. Behind the mask Roadhog raised an eyebrow. “So...you put that on cuz  _ you _ like it or you want  _ me _ to like it?” 

 

Junkrat’s arms fell down to his sides. He felt even more stupid now than he did when this whole thing started. “Just gonna put me pants back on then,” he said as he turned away from Roadhog. Jamison only took about two steps before Mako stopped him. “Hold on,” the larger man had interjected. “Wasn’t exactly expecting to come back to...that.”

 

Jamison turned back around. “Not like what ya see in the pornos, eh? Would it be better if I was loungin’ on the bed covered in flower petals?”

 

Mako chuckled. “You look like you’re missing something.”

 

Jamison lifted his prosthetic arm and peg leg in the air, waving them at Mako. “Dunno if ya noticed mate, but I been missin’ a lotta things fer quite some time!”

 

“You know what the fuck I mean,” Mako replied. He patted one of his meaty clothed thighs, gesturing for Jamison to sit in his lap. “C’mere.”

 

Jamison crossed his arms, but complied to his boyfriend’s request. He walked over to Mako and sat down in his lap, the feeling of Mako’s pants rubbing against his bare skin making something swirl inside him. Mako wrapped a hand around Jamison’s waist so he could keep him steady as his other hand reached down to the floor to grab something from the pile of stolen goods. He leaned back upwards and held up a small roll of blue ribbon. “Not the same shade of blue,” he said as he motioned the ribbon towards the garterbelt, “but it’ll do.”

 

“Whatcha mean ‘it’ll do’? Gonna tie me up or somethin’?” Jamison asked.

 

Mako rolled his eyes behind his mask and pulled his hand away from Jamison so he could unroll the ribbon. When he pulled out a decent length, he ripped it off the spool and tossed it back onto the floor. Ribbon in hand, he lifted Jamison’s right leg so he could wrap it around his thigh. Jamison watched in confusion as Mako tied it neatly, and moved his hands away so the other man could have a look. Mako was right; the blue color of the ribbon certainly didn’t match the garterbelt. However, the inclusion of the ribbon in general made Jamison’s lower half look more appealing. It started to make him feel a bit better about not being able to compliment the garterbelt with a pair of stockings.

 

“Much better,” Mako said. Jamison felt his face begin to burn.

 

“Uh...thanks,” he muttered in reply, slouching against Mako’s chest.

 

“Still feeling unsure of yourself?” Mako asked, sliding a hand over Jamison’s tiny ass.

 

Jamison straightened his back and glared up at Mako. “Never been unsure ‘bout anythin’ in me life!” he barked. 

 

Mako’s other hand rested on Jamison’s hip and his fingertips pressed lightly into the bruises that decorated his pale body. The small sting made Jamison bit back a moan. “Does that mean you’re  _ sure _ you’re not still sore from last night, then?” Mako teased.

 

Jamison grinned, lips pulled back to show off that gold tooth of his. “That a challenge?” he asked as he brought his hands to Mako’s pig mask. Mako lifted Jamison’s hips so the other man could bring his legs around his stomach. Jamison lifted Mako’s mask over his eyes so he could press his thin lips against his more plump ones in a heated kiss. Jamison wrapped his arms around Mako’s neck and moaned into his mouth when Mako kneaded his hand against his ass. When they broke apart, Jamison was alright slightly panting.

 

“We nabbed some lube, right?” he asked as he slowly rubbed his growing erection against Mako’s belly.

 

“Emptied a whole shelf at one of the stores so it’s gotta be ‘round here somewhere.” 

 

Jamison tightened his grip around Mako as the bodyguard brought his arm back around his waist and stood up from the bed. Mako looked around until he spotted a pile of small bottles of lube peeking out from under the bed, and bent down to retrieve one. “Gotta take off your leg,” he said to Jamison as he stood back up. “Starting to pinch at me.”

 

“I almost couldn’t feel me legs after ya rooted me last night, and here y’are whinin’ about a lil’ pinch,” Jamison laughed. 

 

“You’re still taking it off,” Mako replied as he plopped them back down on the edge of the bed.

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

While Jamison got to work on taking off his peg leg, Mako placed the lube on top of the blanket so he could unzip his pants. His dick was straining against his boxers, and was about to pull down the waistband when he felt Jamison pat his vest. “Y’wanna take this off too?” he asked.

 

Mako snorted. “Doesn’t bother me, but I know how much you love digging scratch marks in my back.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Jamison said as he unclipped Mako’s vest for him. Mako laughed as Jamison helped him pull the heavy equipment off his shoulders and onto the floor. “Let’s get to it, then!” Jamison said as he pushed his prosthetic onto the floor and spread his legs wider. 

 

Mako picked up the bottle of lube sitting by his thigh and opened the cap. He poured a glob of it into his hand and dropped the bottle back on the bed so he could pull up Jamison’s hips with one hand while his lubed hand slid between the smaller man’s cheeks. Jamison hissed when he felt Mako’s slick finger prod at his hole, and his flesh hand fell from Mako’s shoulder to pull his dick out from his opened fly. His thin fingers wrapped around the base, and Jamison gave it a light squeeze when he felt Mako’s finger finally breach him. 

 

Mako took his time stretching him; his large finger was more than enough to prepare Jamison. He pushed his finger in and out at a slow pace to let him get used to the feeling while the other man stroked his dick in rhythm. He felt Jamison’s movements pause, and noticed he was reaching for the lube. Soon the cap was opened once more, and felt the cool liquid pour over his cock. Jamison resumed his handiwork, spreading the lube all over the base of Mako’s dick before pulling up to the head. He pressed his thumb over the slit a couple times, making Mako bury his face into the crook of his neck with a soft moan. 

 

Jamison’s ass felt loose enough, so Mako pulled out his finger and wiped his hand on the blanket. Jamison angled Mako’s dick towards him and sunk down, slowly but surely taking him all the way to the hilt. Once he felt their hips connect, Jamison brought his hands to Mako’s shoulders and begins to rock gently in his lap. He savors the feeling of Mako’s dick rubbing at his insides, and his grip tightens around the larger man’s shoulders. Jamison shudders when he hears Mako groan next to his ear, and turns his head to leave a kiss against his cheek. 

 

The pace is much too slow for Mako’s liking, so he lifts his face from Jamison’s neck and leans back. He grabs a hold of Jamison’s hips with both hands and pulls him down on his dick at a sharper angle, making him gasp. Thrusting upwards into him, Mako looked down between them and stared at Jamison’s garterbelt. He took note of the straps hanging against his thighs lightly hopping in place each time their skin collided, and admired the way Jamison’s erection stood out in between the lines of the skimpy fabric. Perhaps the useless piece of cloth wasn’t so bad after all.

 

Jamison was now riding Mako in earnest, a bead of sweat running down this forehead and onto his chest as he felt Mako’s dick hit his prostate. The sounds between the two men increased in volume as they both chased their releases. Jamison moved his flesh hand from Mako’s shoulder to his own neglected dick, jerking himself off to the finish. With a few more thrusts, Mako was coming inside him. He grabbed Jamison by the back of his head and pulled them close for an open-mouthed kiss, swallowing Jamison’s yell as he came into his hand. They broke the kiss but didn’t separate just yet; they brought their foreheads together as they panted heavily.

 

Mako pulled out and plopped backwards on the bed, Jamison cozying up on top of him as they caught their breaths. Mako lifted his head to glance at him, then his gaze turned to the garterbelt. His hand reached for the garterbelt and snapped the fabric against Jamison’s sweaty skin. “Think I should get me a pair,” he said.

 

“Put one on and I might just hafta eat you out,” Jamison replied with a wide grin. “Getcha a nice red one.”

 

“Surprised that was the only one we nabbed, though I guess I shouldn’t be shocked.”

 

“Pah. They just don’t appreciate a sexy bod like yers.”

 

Jamison lifted himself up from Mako’s stomach to roll off the bed and shuffle through their varied stolen goods. He tossed around clothes and name brand handbags, and paused when he picked up a large makeup palette. He inspected it, opening and closing it repeatedly ‘til he got quickly bored and just stared at the different colors inside. 

 

“What do we have shit like that for, anyways?” Mako asked, staring over the edge of the bed at Jamison.

 

“Gotta come up with new disguises now, don’t we!” Jamison exclaimed. “Kinda pictured meself like a...clown. That’s sure to get the cops off our trail! Think this ribbon ya put on me’ll come in handy.”

 

Mako debated on telling Jamison that no, dressing up like a clown would probably attract even  _ more _ attention to themselves, and that he had no idea why he’d wanna dress up like a clown to begin with, but he was too exhausted to argue. Almost too exhausted to notice Jamison crawling back on top of him, straddling his lap. Jamison was still holding the palette, face scrunched in thought as he stared down at Mako’s pig tattoo. He brought up the brush in his other hand and swiped at one of the colors in the palette, then brought it down to the tattoo to brush the color against the cheeks of the pig. When he felt his handiwork was done, he leaned back and admired his little makeup test. The cartoon pig on Mako’s belly now appeared to have big rosy pink cheeks, amplifying its cuteness.

 

“Well ain’t you a pretty piggy!” Jamison cooed as he tossed the palette back on the floor and pressed a quick peck on Mako’s belly button. 

 

Mako chuckled at Jamison’s excited expression. “Dunno how that’s supposed to help me hide, but I like it.”

 

“Course ya do!” Jamison said as he lied down on the bed next to Mako. “I’m a creative genius after all.” 

 

Jamison looked down at his hips, and a funny idea popped in his head. With a laugh he joked, “‘Ey, think I should go out like this? Be a  _ sexy _ clown? Give all them drongos a good show?”

 

The bean pole of a man was very delighted by the reaction he got; Mako’s laughter echoed the motel room walls and shook the bed frame. Jamison laughed along with him, slapping his organic hand against his forehead in his fit of giggles. When they both came to, Jamison felt Mako shift his weight to wrap his arms around him. Mako kissed his sharp jawline and that one particular freckle on his long nose, earning himself a pleased sound from the other man.

 

“Prefer it if you kept this just for me. But I know you’d be stupid enough to run out ass naked anyways,” Mako said.

 

Jamison scoffed. “Have ya seen us? Stupid’s what always gets tha job done.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on other lingerie-based oneshots with other ships, so you'll be seeing them added to the collection in the future. WINK WONK
> 
> Thanks for reading!! If ya like my stuff feel free to hit my ass up on tumblr and/or twitter @masterbunne.
> 
> Bye for now! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


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